Glow
by Darkness' Embrace
Summary: It was carried in the wind, and written in the stars. They were meant to be, nothing could be more perfect. And yet, for that exact reason, they were utterly impossible. - Sequel to 'Tis The East'.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. All rights belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Glow**

The soft wind stirred her white-blonde hair, caressing her cheeks like a lover. The night was cool and calm, so quiet she dared not move for fear of disrupting the rare, tender peace.

It was mid-October, but the weather hadn't completely broken yet, the warm, muggy days just barely giving way to the harsh, icy chill that she knew lay ahead. In her opinion, this time of year was the most beautiful. Standing on the banks of the Black Lake, her toes just barely brushing the wet, undulating surf each time it advanced, she had a clear view of the clean, well kept grounds.

They were beautiful even in darkness.

The grass was severely cut, and light permitting, was a brilliant shamrock green that never failed to energize and excite the senses. At this time of year it was covered with leaves of various shapes and colours, banished from the thick, long branches to make room for those that would take their place in the coming spring.

The tall trees that surrounded the grounds and appeared at frequent intervals nestled in to the rich soil cast dark shadows upon the bright grass, muting the elegant shades of green that were brought in to sharp relief when the piercing sunlight reached it, turning each blade in to a multi-faceted crystal.

Stemming from the smooth harlequin lawns lay Hogwarts, the centre of the very heart of beauty. The large castle rose up from the depths of nothingness, something concrete to hold on to amongst all the darkness and shadow. It was tall and wide, seemingly bigger than life itself it was so all encompassing. It's presence was weighty, and the sheer size of the fort would have been intimidating beyond imagination were it not for the small squares of bright light that usually lit up the face of the building, adding a homey glow to the otherwise bleak exterior.

That smouldering radiance was not present now, not now when no birds were singing, when the only illumination of anything was the eerie white globe that hung from the sky, glowing plaintively in to the oppressive darkness.

Bordering the grounds on the other side was the Black Lake. It lay like a predator, flat and dark, sucking light and energy from the air around it. She knew not what lay at its depths, nor did she wish to. There were never large moon tides or crashing, towering waves. The lake was always still, the expanse of inky darkness only broken by the small ripples that licked at her exposed toes. Whatever was ensconced within it's black depths was quiet, immersed deep underground, never to see the light of day.

The thought made her shiver. Quickly taking a step back from the very edge of the lake, she reached up to wipe a strand of hair from her face. The slight wind made thin strands of her hair float, forming a glowing golden halo around her. She was a spot of white light against the darkness; she probably appeared to be an angel to anyone who was looking.

Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, making her seem blurred around the edges, almost as if she were not really there. With her simple white cotton dress, she bled innocence and naivety, seemingly so utterly sweet and angelic in her virtuousness that it was heartbreaking.

Narcissa Black was no angel.

That much at least, she could attest to. Living the life she had lived, seeing the things she had seen, it was impossible to be truly innocent, or innocent at all for that matter, not when her soul was blackened, her heart burned and broken. Outwardly she was all light, all bright white purity, but on the inside, where it counted, she was utterly ruined.

Up until now, she hadn't cared.

She felt him before she heard him. The slight shifts in the leaves, the warm gust of air were all clues, but it was the faint stirring within her, the primal part of her very being that called out to him. Those were the signs that told her without a doubt that it was him, that it truly was him standing behind her, his warm, steady breath on her exposed neck.

She turned to face him, revelling in their closeness, knowing that this might very well be the last time they could ever be this way; this honest and free. Tonight they were still children, people of no consequence in this big, open place. Tomorrow they would be adults, forced to shoulder the responsibilities the fates had thrust upon them, the unfair burdens God had chosen them to carry. They wouldn't enjoy it, or maybe they would, but ultimately, they didn't have to.

She reached up and hesitantly placed her hand delicately on his cheek, feeling the warmth that radiated from his body, feeling his closeness burn her. It was a good pain, but it hurt nonetheless.

Feeling his own calloused, rough hand cup hers, she sighed deeply, removing her hand from his face and dropping it to her side. She so desperately wanted to put it back, to connect their bodies in just that small, simple way, and stay there forever. She would do anything for that, but anything would never be enough.

Nothing could ever be enough for them.

"It is done," Her voice came out louder than she had anticipated, cleaving the choking silence in two. His hand immediately shot out to grasp on to her own, almost as is he could feel her slipping away from him.

Little did he know, she was already gone.

"You mean the--," She cut him off.

"Yes. All the arrangements have been made. I am to be married," She was cool, collected, just as she had known she would be.

She had no tears left to cry.

She felt his body stiffen in response, and she turned her head to the side, unable to meet his eyes. If she did, if she allowed herself to stare in to those wide, innocent eyes, she knew she would break. Everything she had fought so hard to keep together, all the strength she had mustered to appear strong in front of him; it would all be destroyed, all with one single look. She could not allow that to happen.

"Are you sure? Is there not a way out? You said there might be a loophole; you said there was a chance! Please, Narcissa, please. Tell me things won't end this way," He was passionate, the emotions in his voice wild and out of control. He was so unrestrained, unafraid. Everything that she could never be.

Her harsh, cynical burst of laughter was out of place in what appeared to be a lover's embrace. But then again, they weren't normal. They never had been, and she knew they never would be. Not many things were completely impossible, but they were one of them. She didn't even know why she'd bothered, she knew right from the start that they hadn't had a chance.

People did crazy things for love. Just because she was cruel, it didn't mean she wasn't a person, and she loved him, she truly did.

She pulled her hand from his tight grasp, and turned her back to him. Once again she faced the lake, almost expecting there to be some change, something tangible to mark the huge action she had just taken.

There was nothing. Her eyes met nothing but blankness as they desperately searched the heavy, dark canvas, fruitless in their attempts.

"Did you honestly believe me? I was a fool, you were a fool, we were both fools for this love. Is this what love is? This heartbreak? If this is what it means to love, then I want no part in it! There is no hope. Everything is official, the paper work completed, the signatures obtained. We are finished," The words were heavy on her tongue, bitingly acrid. They seemed to not want to leave her lips, and when they did, they came out soft and low, hoping to remain unheard.

Her own body had betrayed her. But what did it matter when she had already betrayed her own heart?

She felt him step closer to her, moulding his body to hers. His touch on her waist was light, but she felt it radiate deep in her very bones. He had branded her, and she was his. Nothing could change that, at least that was what she chose to believe, no matter how true it really was.

She couldn't help but marvel at the righteousness of it all, how perfect it was. The faultlessness that defined their relationship was everywhere. It was written in the stars, and carried in the wind. Every natural, earthly power imaginable seemed to be pushing them together, hinting at what they could be.

They had reached a peak, the point in their relationship where bliss was a constant companion and happiness a faithful friend. They had a love so powerful it blinded her with its beauty, its sheer virtue.

And now, she would destroy it.

What they had was too sweet, too vulnerable to live in this harsh world. For the good of both of them it would be silenced. Not by choice of the star-crossed lovers themselves, but by word of an old man sitting behind a desk. With a flourish of his quill he would break them, forever marring the purity that lived within their very beings.

She covered his hands on her waist with her own, and gripping them gently, she lifted them away from her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from him, severing contact with his warm body.

She felt the coldness seep in to her as soon as she wasn't connected to him, the ice in the air invading her inner walls now that she no longer had him there to protect her from it.

"You had to have known. We never would have lasted. You knew that. Please tell me you knew that," She was the desperate one now. She needed him to understand. She couldn't live with herself if he thought that deep in her heart, this was what she wanted.

She felt him step away from her, but she didn't turn around, she simply allowed more heat to leak from her body, feeding the coldness that was the world without him.

The wind buffeted against her, trying to push her towards him, but her body was unresponsive. Even Mother Nature wasn't powerful enough to erase this blot of ink that was spread across the pristinely white page that used to be their sweet, innocent love.

Nothing was powerful enough.

"I understand," His voice was soft, caressing. She knew he didn't understand, not really, but the fact that he said it was enough for her. Enough to sate her guilt-ridden nerves until the pain was more bearable. She could handle it now; at least she hoped she could.

She heard him begin to walk away; the autumn leaves crunching under his feet, each crunch more painful for her than the last. She wanted so badly to lash out, to run after him and grab him and never let go. She knew that if she moved an inch she would do just that, and all of her precious self-control would be lost.

She didn't move, not a muscle, not until the very last moments, when she could take it no longer. She was still as a statue, not a shift in her posture, not a twitch in her finger.

Only her lips moved, and even then, the movement was small. She wanted to scream the words, to awaken the world with the shattering emotion that she knew would carry through in her voice.

In the end, all that escaped her lips was a mere whisper that was whipped away from her as soon as it left her mouth, carried away by the wind.

"I'm sorry, James. I'm sorry,"

**FIN**

**A/N This is a response to call-me-bee's Unlikely Pairings Challenge. The prompts are numbers 7 and 20: Narcissa Black and James Potter, and wind.**


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